


Mirror, Mirror

by MayaTL



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Crossing Parallels, Gen, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control, Mirror Universe, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaTL/pseuds/MayaTL
Summary: Logan discovers a completely average mirror.Nothing abnormal occurs.ON HIATUS.





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> REMINDER: This is not as dark as it sounds, I promise, but you know how Mirror Universes go.

_"I can remember asking my parents when I was at about the age of eight or nine what a black hole was, and what was its purpose. Like most people not really knowing themselves what a black hole was, they made up some wild, crazy story, hoping that I was to young to know the difference between fact or fiction."_

The click of a pen reverberated in the quiet of the room, soon followed by a sharp scribble that indicated some grammatical error had been pointed out and rectified.

_"Later on in life I found myself still being driven by a lot of the same questions. Science to this day still remains as one of my favorite subjects, especially when it comes to astronomy."_

Logan glanced at his wrist watch, his head propped up with a fist, taking in exactly how much time had passed as his fingers absently fiddled with the pen. He sat watching the silent tick tock of the second hand for a brief moment before he deliberately did not sigh, leaning back and running a tired hand over his face.

Approximately 3 hours, 22 minutes and 56 seconds had gone by since he had started going over the essays he had received that week and he had barely gotten through one of the more moderate stacks, of which he had two, on top of three others that were nearly double in size and an odd one out then and there that he had leftover from a previous assignment.

It was a slow day.

The topic had been the same for all his classes: an essay concerning the discovery, exploration and particularities of a celestial body or space phenomenon of their choice. It was a fascinating topic, one that he had indulged in himself if anyone were to guess by the telescope in the back corner of his room and the star maps drawm over the walls and ceilings with phosphorescent paint and stickers.

Still, it had been a very slow day. Emile had seemingly signed up the entire school for a charity field trip to the outskirts of the Mindscape, where he claimed a hospital was located, and so Logan had been dismissed of any classes for the day.

Which left him with the choice of either sitting in his office all day grading papers, or sitting in his _room_ all day grading papers.

The room had eventually won over.

He shot his watch another tight-lidded look, as if that would make the time rush ahead of itself, wrote down a few words of praise for the student's use of thematic vocabulary and gave them a generous grade that stemmed more from him wanting to be done than any special merit.

Logan was a teacher. This was his job. It would be unfair to his students if he did not adequately assign them a grade that properly reflected their work material, but he was beginning to feel uncharacteristically frustrated with himself.

He graded often, but it was unusual for him to remain cooped up into his room all day without interruption.

Patton would bring him coffee, or just wander in to check on his general health every now and again. Sometimes, if he seemed particularly tense or bored, Patton would forcibly drag him downstairs to help with whatever menial task the paternal side had taken up in order to provide a distraction.

Roman might have come barging into his room uninvited at any point of day, ranting about an idea he had made up on the spot with that infuriating, ear-splitting grin plastered on his face the entire time, and by the time Logan would successfully manage to shoo him out paperwork would suddenly feel like a blessing.

Then there was _Virgil._

Virgil, who would creep in shyly sometimes, sensing Logan's tension from a mile away and waiting for permission, or would stroll in quietly and entirely at ease on less stressful days, like it was no question at all whether he belonged there. He would plop down on Logan's bed, headphones on, and mindlessly scroll through his phone while occasionally bobbing his head to music the logical side couldn't hear.

Logan would sooner burn all his ties than admit it to him and be on the receiving end of his never-ending teasing, but Logan enjoyed Virgil's company the most. It was, in his opinion, the most peaceful type of company, being in the same room without engaging in conversation.

The fact that it also happened to be his favourite was left unspoken.

He performed a few basic stretching exercises to get some of the soreness out of his muscles, stiff from having been sat in a chair all day. Then he swiveled around in said chair, regarding the empty bed, and had to make an effort not to be insulted by how lonely it felt.

_'Feelings.'_ he thought, with no small amount of remorse. _'The bane of my existence.'_

And then he shook his head, clearing his mind of the troubling emotion.

Well, he was clearly not going to get any work done with the efficiency he demanded of himself while he was in such an _emotional state_ , so he would have to rectify that; it wouldn't do to cause Thomas any undue problems with a break in his routine.

He stood, wincing at the momentary protest of his legs, adjusted his tie and glasses, ran a hand through his hair to get it back in an orderly fashion and make himself presentable. It was a most unusual thing, for him to seek company, but he was certain anyone he found would be quite willing to accompany him once the surprise wore off.

He knew Patton must have taken the children to the park that morning, he had brought it up himself the day before during dinner, and it was safe to say that if Roman hadn't bothered him yet then he must have been away on a grand adventure of some sort.

That left Virgil, who, unless he'd spontaneously decided to go for a walk in the woods, should be easy to find.

The hallway was oddly quiet as he exited, like it always was when the two more eccentric sides happened to be out of the house at the same time. Not too long ago Logan would have been relieved to see them gone, but now he found the atmosphere lacked a certain warmth that had unknowingly always been comforting.

Fascinating.

Virgil's room was situated at the end of the hall, shrouded in ominous shadows as was his preference. A **KEEP OUT** sign was glued onto the black door, but its effect had been slightly diminished, since Patton had plastered some rainbow stickers right on top of it and Roman had stuck a Valentine's Day card in the shape of a heart underneath it.

He recalled the anxious side whining about it as they'd gathered in the living room for movie night not too long ago, but he had yet to remove them and no one had questioned him on it.

_Fascinating._

Logan was just about to head over and knock, but as he closed the door of his own room, that vaguely resembled that of the TARDIS, he spotted an oddity out of the corner of his eye in the otherwise bland corridor.

Roman's door, besides the velvet red curtains framing the entryway, the fancifully carved handle and the thin golden lining, was a pristine royal white. Next to it stood an oval mirror of the same size, with a ridiculously ornate golden frame of clear royal origin; it reminded Logan of the mirror of the Evil Queen in Snow White only because Roman had played it on every Disney marathon he'd ever participated in.

His eyebrows pulled into a small frown, and he glanced both ways again to confirm that Roman was nowhere to be seen, before curiosity got the better of him and he walked up to it to ensure a closer analysis.

The first thing he noticed was that it looked to be a mirror in every sense of the word but in practice, because there was no reflection. It was very clearly made of glass, but when he had checked to see how it had been hung it refused to budge, almost like it was part of the wall itself.

His frown only deepened. The last he had seen of Roman had been after dinner, when the prince had very boldly announced that he had royal business to attend to and had bid them all farewell and goodnight in an overly formal manner, and the mirror had definitely not been there then, nor that morning when he'd gone downstairs for breakfast.

As he examined it more carefully, he managed to make out an inscription at the top, written in a dialect and presumably language he didn't recognize, which continued with another line on the bottom. The longer he stared at it the more the letters seemed to shift and rearrange right before his eyes, until they eventually morphed into English.

Not noticing his sudden lack of characteristic caution when presented with a foreign object, he murmured the words aloud.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall..." he crouched down to read the bottom engraving, "Show me the darkest side of us all."

He was pondering on the meaning behind the words that were clearly philosophical in nature, when all of a sudden the glass started to audibly vibrate. Not having expected anything to happen - a foolish oversight on his part, this was obviously connected to Roman - he reached out before he could think it through, intending to steady the glass and prevent it from shattering.

He was caught off guard by how cold it was, and that was the only reaction his mind registered before he fell, or rather was pulled through by something beyond the surface and he was gone.

There were ripples, like those of a pebble dropped into water, and as they began to settle another figure emerged, stepping into the empty hallway with a deadly sort of calm.

They were tall, male in appearance, their back straight as a ramron, and they held themselves with predatory elegance as dark blue eyes gradually took in their surroundings, glinting dangerously in the faint light.

Processing.

He turned to regard the mirror, somehow managing to look utterly disgusted while also showing no emotion at all. Then he turned to himself, taking in his appearance with sharp and precise movements.

The gray tie complimenting his black dress shirt was askew by a few millimetres, which he corrected immediately, and the digital watch on his wrist was slightly loosened, so he adjusted that as well. His dark jeans and black dress boots had remained untouched.

Good. Everything was in order.

His piercing gaze caught sight of a door in the shadows, down the end of the already poorly lit hallway. _Impractical._

Colourful items adorned an unnecessary sign, which had been hung improperly in the first place, and a piece of paper in the shape of a heart with no clear purpose was attached too far below the eye level. _Illogical._

He stretched out his senses and registered a heartbeat just beyond the doorway; fairly slow pulse, low muscle activity. Unoccupied. _Relaxed._

He reached deep into the Mindscape, forcing his way through the barriers when it didn't recognize him right away, and felt the constant hum of conscious activity indicating that their host was awake and active.

_Behaviour is non-compliant._

_**Unacceptable.** _

His eyes darkened until they appeared pitch black underneath the low light, and something lethal flashed across his face, something cold and unforgiving.

He started soundlessly towards the room, covering the distance in three and a half measured strides, and turned the handle without even considering to knock.

_Logical input: behaviour must be rectified._


End file.
